Santorini
by SYuuri
Summary: She didn't even care that sometimes her house felt too big for her alone, that she actually didn't mind to share Sam's apartment with Natalie because it gave her more warmth than her own place ever did. xX Oneshot Xx


**Santorini**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: Well, Christmas is in a couple of months. <strong>

**:: This idea came to me after watching last week's episode, seeing how Sam's shirt matched the color of his eyes. Then I bounced off some ideas with Shiggity (**_**thank you so much!)**_** and thus, the one-shot was born. There's a very minor part about homosexuality, so if it offends you in anyway, just pretend you didn't read it. Cheers.**

**:: Spoilers for _The War Within_ **

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><p>The weather channel had reported that the rain would be upon Toronto until Monday, but there hadn't been one puff of clouds in the sky. Everything had pointed to what would have been a very good Jules day, topped with sprinkles and sugar. Literally.<p>

"A very good day my ass," Jules muttered to herself. And to think about it, _it_ had happened because Peter and Sidney had chosen today of all days to be sickeningly sweet towards each other. After Marina and her famous cheese-cupcakes that were still being talked about, one of their dispatchers was inspired and decided to bring a box of homemade doughnuts to the early workout session – special delivery! The gesture was incredibly sweet, but it had also made the two-hour workout completely ineffective. Not that the boys cared, judging from how they gobbled them down like it would be their last meal on earth.

It's _totally_ Sidney's fault, she insisted, not finding any comfort in placing the blame on her friend's shoulders.

She liked Sidney. He was a very down-to-earth guy with a sense of style that was far better than hers. Being friends with Peter and Sidney definitely had its own perks. Hell, Peter was even a better listener sometimes, thoughtful and considerate, unlike _Sam_.

"Bastard." Jules pushed the door to her bathroom open, clad in just an old oversized t-shirt. Her pout deepened when she saw his razor, aftershave and other manly stuff cluttered on her counter. They had probably been laying there for two weeks. How many times had she told him to put everything back in the cabinet?

Sam had flashed her a knowing grin when he swallowed his third doughnut that morning. Unlike her, Sam had an unhealthy addiction to sweets. Sure, she had thought _then_, that doing some baking for her loved one would be a fun thing to do. Maybe she could convince him to join her, even with his lack of cooking (and baking) skill, and wear her apron. If things progressed to a food fight, then it would have been fine too. The cake would undoubtedly be forgotten, she would need days to clean up her kitchen, but it would have been as fun as priming her drywall, only sweeter, and they didn't need to worry about leaving any paints on themselves.

At the very mention of her drywall, her bad mood escalated.

"Jerk."

"_Talking about special delivery, I got a phone call saying that my new batch of paint would be delivered tomorrow," Jules whispered, giving Sam a nudge. They were standing far from the others, but it never hurt to be extra careful. He was still busy chewing down his doughnut. For a 34 year old man, he could still act like a little boy sometimes, she smiled looking at the chocolate smudge over his upper lip. Given the situation, she let the temptation to wipe it clean slide this time. _

"_What paint?" Sam asked, sounding genuinely oblivious. _

_Jules rolled her eyes. She had only mentioned about her plan to do another home renovation ten times before. "I want to redo my study, you know that," she hissed. It was an unfinished business, one that she should have done a long time ago. But then she got shot, dumped Sam, made a general mess of things and repainting had been the farthest thing on her mind. Now everytime she walked into the room to fire up her computer, the purple walls were practically glaring down at her, trapping her and giving her nothing but headache. Whatever her aunt was thinking? "We could stay in my place tonight, then you can help me with them tomorrow." _

_Sam swallowed and put down the half-eaten cake. His smile left his face. "Jules, tomorrow's Saturday." _

"_And today is Friday and yesterday was Thursday," Jules retorted. "What are you saying?" _

"_It's the weekend. We have been having a long-winded week. I was hoping that we could relax and do nothing. How about we come back to my place tonight, and I'll drive you home tomorrow," Sam suggested with a small grin. "Nat said she's going to bring home Mr. Chow's." _

"_For the third time this week? Geez, we surely are a bunch of creative people, aren't we? No more Chinese food for at least a month or two," she shuddered, the idea of spring rolls and kung-pao chicken for dinner made her stomach churn. "I'll cook you something. We probably need to make a pit-stop first though, it's been ages since the last time I did grocery shopping. Nat can come if she wants."_

"_What's wrong with my kitchen?" _

_Jules let out a dry chuckle, unprepared for the sudden change of atmosphere. This version of Sam had only appeared a couple of times before. She didn't quite remember the occasions, but she remembered that those days had ended up pretty badly. The day was still fairly early and she was crossing her fingers for no major hotcalls today. She wouldn't let Sam ruin her Jules day. What could she say except for, "No more doughnuts for you, Sam." _

"_Is it going to be another Santorini Blue?" he asked, not meeting her eyes. He looked like he was in a daze. What the hell is his problem? Before she could answer –yes—and correct him for the umpteenth time, Sam went on, "You seem to always renovate when you have someone around to help you." _

_For a few seconds, Jules was so stunned that nothing came out of her mouth. Sam Braddock had just signed his death certificate. _

"_Look, if you cared enough to wreck your Swiss-cheese brain, you might remember that I started my home renovation before I even met you. I let you help me and since you were very enthusiastic before, I assumed you would be as happy to help me out now. Guess I was wrong." Once she opened the floodgate, the words were pouring out uncontrollably. She didn't even care that sometimes her house felt too big for her alone, that she actually didn't mind to share Sam's apartment with Natalie because it gave her more warmth than her own place ever did. _

_They had talked about this before. They'd agreed to spend a few days in his place and the next several days in hers. But there was also the third option. _

"_You seem to sleep better in your bed, so you're probably going to sleep even better without having to share it with me." _

An incoming hot-call had spared them from taking the argument to the next level, and it might just as well. They were at HQ, it was as inappropriate as it was dangerous. For a few hours, she had managed to put everything on the back burner. From the look of it, Sam had also turned off his personal feelings since Ed had assigned them as Team Bravo. She couldn't afford being distracted. She _wouldn't_ allow their personal problems to get in the way. They were professionals.

One suspect, three hostages and one Scorpio shot courtesy of Constable Sam Braddock later, they drove back to HQ in silent.

Jules wondered how his interview with SIU had gone. Sam normally headed straight home after a kill-shot. An hour or two later, her landline would ring. On several occasions, he would drive to her place after the interrogation was done. If he wanted to talk about it, then they talked about it. Most of the time they just had dinner together, watched some TV before retiring to her bedroom.

Now it had been three and a half hours and her phone was still giving her the silent treatment. Natalie could take care of him, Jules reckoned, looking at the clock above the cabinet, unless she was out doing whatever errands she seemed to always be doing. But Sam was a big boy, and if Nat wasn't coming home with yet another round of Mr. Chow's, there's a left-over pizza from the day before yesterday and why should she even care?

"I don't." She answered loudly.

Jules brushed her teeth, glaring at her own reflection. Every time she inhaled, she could smell the familiar scent of her jasmine shampoo, layered with the smell of fresh cut flowers coming from her lotion and the faint smell of Sam's musky aftershave. Sam's bathroom smelled more like her than him, and he had never said anything about it. It was very endearing of him, but it still didn't change the fact that he had shoved his size ten and a half foot into his mouth today. And it wouldn't smell like her so much if she hadn't stayed at his place for so long, because apparently, he didn't like her house.

She spitted and wiped her mouth, tossing the toothbrush aside. She would deal with him tomorrow. Well, maybe not tomorrow, because her paint would arrive tomorrow and she would be far too busy to even think about his blond hair. Busy was good, it's a distraction. Not that she needed anything to distract her mind from him though, no-

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He had changed into his Patron shirt and a pair of jeans with holes on the knees and was currently making himself at home on the recliner in the corner of the room. Fortunately, he had turned on the bedside lamps or it would have been like a scene from a cheap Hollywood horror movie.

Sam knew what her code was, but she didn't think she heard the alarm ringing. Was it broken? Did he break it? Why didn't she think of changing the code? Why was he here?

"I've reset the alarm," Sam said, as if he could tell the mental debate coursing through her mind. Sam rose to his feet. She narrowed her eyes. He was barefoot, which was good. She would personally kick him out of her house if he had the balls to bring his dirty, old sneakers up to her room. "Your house is as safe as it could be."

Jules didn't miss his implication. Obviously, Sam didn't plan on leaving tonight. Well, he did tell her that the couch downstairs was mighty comfortable. "Yeah, I could see that."

"I was walking to clear my head when I saw your lights still on." Sam ignored her sarcasm, not making any efforts to close the distance between them. He also didn't bother to think that his apartment was located on the opposite side of the town. She simply gave him a look and his stoic expression remained in place for another five seconds before replaced with a guilty smile. "I came over to apologize."

Jules bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from smirking. She deserved his apology, but it didn't mean that everything was automatically back to normal. He _did_ fuck up today. "Apology accepted." She replied nonchalantly before walking to her side of the bed. She really was not in the mood to hear his explanation.

Sam still hadn't moved and she watched him watch her Santorini Sky painted walls. She counted to ten to calm herself. "Sam, I don't need you to sulk and brood around my house, considering how much you hate-"

"I don't hate the color, Jules," Sam cut her mid-sentence and took a step forward. Jules waited for him to continue. He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration before sitting on the edge of her bed.

"You clearly hate it enough that you have a hard time to remember what it's called." Jules remarked and walked to him nonetheless, drawn by the amount of his exposed vulnerability radiating off of him. "Look, it's really okay if you want to go home. It's only logical that you feel more comfortable staying in your own place."

"That was before Nat came in her pink tutu and take over." Sam shrugged.

"Fine, you can stay tonight, and you can go home first thing first tomorrow. I _don't_ need you to help me. One step inside my study and you will face the barrel of my Sig." End of discussion. She was tired beyond belief and he could say whatever he wanted to say tomorrow when she was fully awake. "You can stay in the guest room, or in the couch, or here, whatever, just don't snore."

Sam caught her hand, holding her in place. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

She didn't need to ask him what he meant by 'it'. "Could have fooled me."

"Just hear me out, okay?"

"Sam, I'm really tired."

She made the mistake of looking at those haunting blue eyes, and as always, she was a goner. Jules felt her head gave an almost invisible nod.

"When you told me that you're going to do some more home renovation, it threw me off. I didn't mean to make those comments, they were totally uncalled for."

_You think?_ Was on the very tip of her tongue. Jules sighed, her free hand perching on her the side of her hip. "I'm having troubles deciding what the problem is. Whether you hate to stay in my place, or you find my blue paint totally distasteful, or you think I'm with you because I need your help to carry the paint, or all of the above."

Sam looked at their clasped hands, thumb absently caressing the back of her hand. The silence was driving her crazy and she was about to nudge him to talk, when he did. "I know how much you love the color, since it's a reminder of your mom and all… but Jules, it's a little intimidating."

Jules cocked her eyebrows at that. Of all things she'd imagined he would say to her, that hadn't been on the list. When they had been dating for the first time, she had told him about her parents. How her father had proposed to her mom in Santorini, how happy her mom had been, before everything went down the hill afterwards. The picture of her mom in the Oia beach was the only one she had of her mother and Jules had made several copies of it and placed them in various places; her locker, her bedroom, the living room and inside of her purse.

"What do you mean by intimidating?" Jules frowned.

"The color, as pretty as it is, brings back bad memories."

"Sam." She didn't understand.

He gave her a rueful grin and she didn't resist when he pulled her closer. "It reminds me of my father's eyes. Cold, distant, sharp as steel and… _cold_. It reminds me of when I was eight and my mom would come to my room at night to read to me until we fell asleep on my bed because she hated to sleep alone," the grip he had on her hand was bone-crushing and nothing prepared her for what's coming next. "And it reminds me of our failed relationship, of the day when I had to come over to collect my things because it's over." The smile he had on his face was sad and full of regrets. If he didn't hold her hand, her legs would have probably failed her. "It's smothering, Jules, I feel like I'm trapped in this tunnel of endless memories I desperately want to forget."

Jules swallowed hard. She felt like she was a bigger jerk than he had been today. Suddenly it seemed like their fight had happened a million of years ago and at this point, she really couldn't give a damn about it.

She ran a slim finger down the side of his face until it reached his chin and tilted it up so that their eyes locked together. She _thought_ she was smiling, but she wasn't sure. "It made me upset, Sam, because that was the last time my mom was the happiest; when she was in Santorini. But I decided to focus on the good memories.

"When you think of your father's eyes, it should also remind you how unlike your father you are. How you won't be anything like him. It should remind you of the color of your little sister's dress when she celebrated her fourth birthday and even though she's not around now, she will always be with you," Jules brought their hands to his heart, recalling his insecurities that she had picked up, even when they still had been just friends, the first and second time around. "It should remind you of Nat. That you have a sister who will always look up to you and will do her best to make you proud."

Sam looked at her, their positions making her stand taller than him. A smile was playing on the corner of his lips. "Sometimes I forgot how good of a negotiator you were."

She looped her arm around his neck, letting him rest his head against her chest. She pulled him in tighter, pressing her cheek against his hair. They were together now, and this time, giving up on them wasn't a choice. She wouldn't give Sam any cause to doubt her commitment. Nothing she said could erase the fact that she had broken his heart before, but they would create new memories. Because it's not going to go away, it wouldn't _ever_ go away.

"Don't be so bitter, you're getting there," Jules poked his side. "That being said, I understand where you're coming from. But it's just a color, Sam. I'm not going to repaint my bedroom, so don't hold your breath."

"Thanks, Jules," his voice was husky and rough, like he had just woken up from a deep slumber. "Maybe we could take some time off, grab our passports and book the first flight to Greece. I would love to see the expressions on our friends' faces."

And then what, Sam, you're going to propose? The absurdity of the idea made her stomach feel queasy in a very nice, weird kind of way. She shifted her weight from one foot to another. "Don't be silly. As an SRU, being in this room _is_ my vacation. It's as far away from HQ as I get."

"Fair enough," Sam released her hand only to wrap his around her waist, pulling her more fully into the embrace. "And technically speaking, you do have Santorini Sky above you."

Jules cupped his face in her hands, looking deeply into his eyes—blue, warm and held a million of words. The color was almost identical with the paint on her walls, only more soulful and beautiful with flecks of sea-green. "No, technically speaking, I have _you_. You're my Santorini, Sam Braddock."

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><p><strong>:)<strong>

**- Don't you love that last line about Sam being her Santorini? Shiggity helped me with it. I fell in love with that too. Thanks, SS! **


End file.
